Paradigm
by Ruaki
Summary: Ragna/Hazama, AU.  She knew that removing Terumi's favorite failsafe was guaranteed to cause a critical system failure.
1. integral body & imperfect soul

**Title**: Paradigm  
**Author name**: Ruaki  
**Category**: Adventure/Romance, BlazBlue  
**Keywords**: Ragna, Hazama, AU  
**Spoilers**: Let's just say through Continuum Shift just to be safe.

**Summary**: She knew that removing Terumi's favorite failsafe was guaranteed to cause a critical system failure.

**Notes**: In case you missed it, this story is AU. Canon is Jayoku'd to the sky with a big smile. Though one could more accurately call the story an "alternate timeline," I've taken a few liberties in a number of areas, especially concerning a few things that were revealed in Phase 0.

The story features mainly a pairing of Hazama & Ragna. There's some other minor ones in there too, but that's the big one.

If any of the above just made your face resemble a piece of Cubist art, then I invite you to read one of the many other fanfics available for this series.

For any of you still present and willing, please enjoy the show.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned it, Ishiwatari Badguy-sama would be the one doing a lot more than just music for this series. So obviously I don't.

* * *

**0. integral body & imperfect soul**

It was done.

Ragna exhaled, air whistling past torn and bloodied lips. The last slivers of green-tainted energy clinging to him dimmed and faded away. Slowly, his arm dropped. Everything felt so numb. The disconnection that allowed him to keep fighting was still in place: there was no regret or guilt or compassion. This had been necessary. What did any of that mean? It had been his choice and there was no turning back. Not any more. Curiously, Ragna flexed the fingers of his hand, staring at it with an empty gaze; he could feel the Grimoire stirring inside that artificial limb, its power thrumming in tune to the Gate. Each pulse of the Grimoire's power plunged into the emptiness filling him, reminding him of what—who—he was, and the promise he made: that he would face the end of the world as a human being.

With a shuddering breath, he reach down inside himself for the emotions he had carefully locked away for that battle, dragging them up one by one. The detachment and ambivalence to destroying something important to him—no matter the illusions that had built it—slid away and everything he had been holding back hit him at once. Physical agony stabbed at his body and drowning emotions clutched at his heart. He choked, slumping against Bloodscythe for support as he retched, globs of dark blood splattering to the ground. Gulping for air, the battle replayed over and over again in his mind, this time accompanied by everything he had locked away: the hate and love and all those damned annoying _feelings_...!

The echo of his name, screamed with so much hatred and rage, trembled through his body with all the force of a curse and he gagged on a second wave of bile. "Fuck," Ragna snarled in between gasps, struggling to calm himself down. He couldn't break down yet.

Because it was done, but it was not over.

Another part of him, that new part which was alien and thick and black but still felt so much like _him_, lurched and shifted, uncoiling with an equal measure of fear and disgust to the approaching wavelength of the Boundary.

Sensing that the new threat had finally decided to show itself, Ragna knew he had to take the risk of using seithr to heal himself. He would not be able to face his greatest obstacle half-broken as he was, Grimoire or not. Steeling himelf, Ragna pulled at the seithr swirling in the darkened hall and pressed its invisible tendrils at his many wounds—a dislocated shoulder, a shattered shin, a missing right eye and ear, burns and gashes and exposed pieces of bone and muscle. Flesh and sinew knotted together, mending most of his wounds with only an echo of pain as a memory of their existence. And all the while, the Grimoire eagerly lapped up the seithr absorbed into his body, and it became more pervading, pressing against the wall which protected Ragna's consciousness and seeking entry. A spasm jerked through his empty eye socket as a bit of the Grimoire seeped through the cracks in the wall. With a hiss, Ragna staggered, double vision suddenly criss-crossing before him. It was as if he was watching everything around him rewrite itself over and over, a bit different each time, overlaying atop each other and with the fabric of reality.

The stentch of the Boundary was cloying now and the body of the beast clawed at the wall.

"Susano-o," Ragna spat through gritted teeth, pressing a palm over his now-healed eye to rid himself of the disorientation. But he could still see through his hand, _see_ the ghosts of all the world lines and the sum of all possibile states. Was this what _he_ had been talking about?

The fabric of time parted, a surgical incision which bled the large Sankishin into reality. Ragna struggled to make sense of what he was seeing—two, three, four, a million units, some white and black, some black and white. He squinted, concentrating, willing himself to only _see_ this CTC. Everything came into focus with startling intensity and only one Sankishin remained: the black and white Susano-o, its faceless mask gleaming in the dirty light emitting from the Sheol Gate.

Waves of hate and fear hammered into Ragna's mind, dropping his concentration and the world fractured momentarily. How much of that was from himself? How much of it was from _him_? Scowling, Ragna pushed back the surge of emotion, lowering his hand from his face to grip Bloodscythe's hilt with both fists and drawing himself up to his full height to face his judge, jury, and executioner.

As Susano-o stepped forward, large cracks splintered across the lower half of its blank face, brilliant blue spilling forth. Ragna braced himself instinctively, even though he knew the power of the Boundary had no effect on him.

With a sickening crack, the bottom of the mask split open in a hideous approximation of a mouth, filled with jagged teeth jutting from blood-red gums. A dark, thick tongue ran over the exposed edges of its mask as the Sankishin methodically worked kinks out of its jaw with pops and snaps.

Then a hiss of breath: "Aberration."

The power of the Boundary changed the word into a command and briefly, Ragna could _see_ the Mouth of the Azure obliterate several world lines from existence and could _see_ new ones fracture from the emptiness. That was the power of the Azure, to measure the nether state of all possibilities, though the Mouth was limited in its blindness, relying on the Master Unit to observe.

Ragna bared his teeth in a grin. "Still haven't learned my name, asshole?"

The unit did not rise to the taunt. "Aberration," it repeated. "The end has come." There was no malice or arrogance in its tone. "I will eradicate the entropy caused by your existence." There was no emotion at all; Susano-o was simply speaking the truth as given to it by the Master Unit.

"That's what we're here for, isn't it? Round two." Ragna hefted Bloodscythe, the cleaver extending, slimming. Gripping the shaft, he swung the scythe around as the glowing blade flared out in a burst of visible red seithr.

The ruddy glow bloodied Susano-o's mask as the unit watched impassively with blind eyes.

"But listen to me, you fucking drone. This isn't a battle between the Black Beast and the Sankishin. It isn't even between Professor what's-his-face and Subject U-235." Ragna lifted a hand and stabbed a finger in Susano-o's direction with the cold fury he couldn't display in his earlier battle against _him_. "You're gonna understand the _truth_," he spat out the word like something foul, "that it's gonna be Ragna the Bloodedge who'll destroy what remains of Yuuki Terumi." In his eye, world lines converged as his observation collapsed the wave functions of various states of possibility.

The Mouth was silent, but a claw twitched.

Ragna raised his right arm. The seithr could not heal the long green burns seared deep into darker-than-black flesh, horrible marks of desperation from a shrieking, dying soul. "Restriction 666, released." The Grimoire slithered eagerly against the gap splitting through the wall guarding Ragna's ego. "Dimensional interference field deployed." The words were low and deliberate, hiding the overwhelming rush of energy and primal emotion swirling inside him as he stripped away the barriers and embraced the integration of the Grimoire's power.

Red-tinged shadows seethed over Ragna's form and flickers of white electricity arced along his arm. "There ain't gonna be any resets or closed loops or self-fulfilling curves. No bullshit." Several more wave functions collapsed; fewer and fewer possibilities remained.

"You will have the world suffer in despair—"

"No!" Ragna snarled, cutting past the power of the Mouth's words, past its ability to generate CTCs. "You're spewing about shit you can't even see, you bastard." Ragna raised Bloodscythe, pointing the blade at the last remaining proof of _his_ existence. Once _he_ was gone, then Ragna will seek out and destroy the Master Unit, and all the sins of the lost soul he held would hinder the people he loved no more. The scythe flared in response to the growing amount of seithr emitting from its wielder. "But I'll make you acknowledge the destiny only _I_ can see."

Susano-o's answering breath seemed impossibly amused. "You Observe the fate of the world, thus you are aware there is no destiny which has not been determined by Amaterasu. This is the Truth."

Ragna closed his eyes; behind the darkness of his lids, he saw the remaining possibilities. He saw his destiny in each, but it meant nothing to him: Ragna the Bloodedge, who existed outside the possibilities, because his soul was the fatal exception in the Master Unit's programming since the beginning. _He_ had known that, but Susano-o, still tied wholly to the Master Unit, could not see what the Master Unit did not comprehend.

"Engage SSC," he began, voice rising, eyes opening to glare at the Sankishin—and only the Sankishin, with no probabilites other than what will be born from here and now. By the end, Susano-o will realize exactly why Ragna's existence was an 'aberration.' "Code S.O.L... BlazBlue—activate!"

The release of power was audible, the sonic boom sending surrounding debris to smash against ruined walls. The red darkness around Ragna frothed and writhed, a thousand tendrils swirling to braid together into veridian rings of aura which constantly spun around him, humming with energy. Behind the circling barriers, the Black Beast no longer Observed his impassive opponent—he merely watched him.

The rings slowed and stopped, before suddenly reversing with renewed fury as the green darkened into a brilliant Azure which purified the dirty light of the Gate, christening the world blue.

Now, for the first time, Susano-o could see, and it saw itself and it saw the reflection of its Observer within its mask, a face so twisted with raw human emotion that it lost its humanity—that single green eye which spoke more powerful than the Mouth of the Azure and that single blue Eye which Observed the Truths of which the eye spoke. No... Susano-o realized. The Eye was not Observing... What was it doing? The Master Unit received the data and calculated the possibilities but could not solve the algorithm, its programming constantly cycling over the information yet constantly coming up with a fatal exception.

Susano-o's hideous mouth moved, grinding to twist into a rarely used shape. Breath hissed past the crescent of teeth.

For the first time, Susano-o feared the Truth.


	2. splintered millennium

**Title**: Paradigm  
**Author name**: Ruaki  
**Category**: Adventure/Romance, BlazBlue  
**Keywords**: Ragna, Hazama, AU  
**Spoilers**: Let's just say through Continuum Shift just to be safe.  
**Summary**: She knew that removing Terumi's favorite failsafe was guaranteed to cause a critical system failure.

**Notes**: In case you missed it, this story is AU. Canon is Jayoku'd to the sky with a big smile. Though one could more accurately call the story an "alternate timeline," I've taken a few liberties in a number of areas, especially concerning a few things that were revealed in Phase 0.

The story features mainly a pairing of Hazama & Ragna. There's some other minor ones in there too, but that's the big one.

If any of the above just made your face resemble a piece of Cubist art, then I invite you to read one of the many other fanfics available for this series.

For any of you still present and willing, please enjoy the show.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned it, Ishiwatari Badguy-sama would be the one doing a lot more than just music for this series. So obviously I don't.

* * *

**prologue. splintered millennium**

Facilities owned by the Novus Orbis Librarium would never be described as modest. When the organization began to first establish its power, its founding members—which included the influential circle of clans known as the Duodecim—built its structures to convey a sense of immensity and power. And in a world barely pulled from the brink of extinction, such a tactic worked, and continued to work, as those outside and within NOL feared and respected the entity and its control.

This particular facility was marginally less imposing than its brother agencies, and by marginally, Ragna meant it contained about a third less flying buttresses and two less compounds. But the aura of infallibility and implacable authority was still present, and despite himself, Ragna felt appropriately awed—and slightly disgusted with himself for feeling that way.

"There are about a hundred and twenty servicemen permanently stationed at this base," a short, heavily bearded-and-browed man explained as they walked through halls made for giants. The man had introduced himself as Captain Ryoji Sakamoto of the 32nd Company, and Ragna was sure that all that facial hair made up a good sixty percent of the diminutive captain's body weight.

"Of course, that doesn't include our field agents on loan to the Ars Magi," Sakamoto added with a chuckle. "There's still a war going on and all." He glanced up at Ragna expectantly.

The young man blinked, unsure of what Sakamoto wanted. Was that a joke? Should he laugh? Engage in a discussion about the war? He quickly decided to fall back onto the safest way to placate a superior officer: "Sir, yes sir."

Sakamoto's bush of a beard twitched. "Hardly a year at the Academy, but you act like you've been there all your life, Private."

Ragna managed to fight back a frown and a retort. He had been doing that a lot this last year, struggling to keep a hold on his temper to avoid being expelled from the Academy. And the last thing he wanted to do now that he was finally out of that hellhole was to be discharged for insubordination so soon after enlistment.

"If you don't mind my saying so, soldier," Sakamoto said casually, as if he wasn't a captain and Ragna wasn't a rookie, "you look more like the type to be in the Ars Magi than in Intel." He stroked his beard. "I look at you and think 'blue.'"

A frown wormed onto Ragna's face at that. "I had requested to join the Intelligence Department, sir."

Sakamoto caught the inferred reason and nodded knowingly. The military divisions were known to discriminate based on bloodlines and social standing. Ragna, lacking both a reputable bloodline and powerful connections, was doomed to remain at the bottom of the barrel, never rising higher than a junior non-commissioned officer. At the Academy, the Intelligence Department was snidely referred to as the 'gutter of NOL' for the way it collected the less privileged and seemingly unworthy graduates.

"I read your dossier. No family, entered the Academy late on merit of innate ars ability." Sakamoto slapped Ragna on the back in good humor. "Not to worry! We don't think too much about rank, bloodlines, or race here. Why else would a captain be giving fresh meat like you a personal tour?" A guffaw puffed out from under the gnarled hair.

"We are only concerned with results here," Sakamoto said. "The Librarium uses our intel to command the rest of the organization. It doesn't matter whether it's a Kaka or a Duodecim heir who uncovers and reports the intel—we only want the data and its truths."

Ragna's head bobbed automatically, the 'sir, yes sir' spilling out without any thought. It was all stuff he had already known and had banked upon when he first set his eyes on entering the Library's service.

A pair of black-mantled personnel passed by as they walked, pausing to salute the captain even as their eyes stared curiously at Ragna. He glared back from under messy bangs, used to the stares he received for his somewhat unusual appearance. Their eyes jerked away even as Sakamoto dismissed the pair with an answering salute, and Ragna couldn't help but smirk a bit in self-satisfaction.

If Sakamoto had noticed the stares Ragna had received, he did not acknowledge it and continued on. "Of course, I expect you'll do very well here, Private. Your sponsor was very glowing in his recommendation."

The fingers of Ragna's right hand twitched; he hadn't known about any recommendation. Since this base in one of the lower Hierarchial cities, he figured NOL was just anxious to ship him some place where he wouldn't be a threat. But it made sense, the more he considered it. However, he was sure it was a recommendation not based on his aptitude but on something he had that NOL wanted to keep under their control.

'Unidentified Grimoire.' He knew that line was printed on his dossier somewhere, probably under the words "CONFIDENTIAL: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" and NOL was not going to let any type of Grimoire fall outside of their authority, no matter how benign it seemed.

That had been exactly what Ragna was betting on when he applied for the Academy and exposed the nature of his right arm to them. He also knew that NOL wouldn't risk putting an unknown factor on the frontlines of the war and would comply quickly with his request to join the Intelligence Department.

But a sponsor made Ragna nervous. That meant someone was keeping tabs on him and will most likely be requesting progress reports from his superiors at the base. He'd have to be careful.

"I don't believe I've done anything to warrant a sponsor," Ragna said slowly, tacking on the requisite "sir" as an afterthought.

"Mmm," Sakamoto rumbled, which just confirmed Ragna's suspicions that this sponsorship was about his Grimoire. His fingers twitched again. NOL may not have much information about his Grimoire, but _someone_ sure had an interest in it. Ragna had told the NOL physicians during his physical that it had permanently attached itself to him and replicated his lost arm—a magical prosthetic and nothing more. Now, he'd have to be extra careful to continue to hide its powers beneath a front of 'innate ars ability.' He wanted to know about his Grimoire, but he definitely didn't want to become a casualty to NOL's experiments in the process. It was a fine line he was walking, to stay both under the radar but to advance far and quickly enough to gain access to NOL's information databases.

"Well, either way, we're expecting great things from you." Sakamoto clasped both hands behind his back and smiled. It was a smile one would expect from a grandfather obliging a child's whims. "Welcome to the Intelligence Department."

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

It had been the only Unit created without an artificial consciousness, no indepedent program outside of the directives issued from the Master Unit. It was simply a slave drive, connected to a central system brain.

However, its creators immediately saw the limitations of this configuration and, after many trials, managed to successfully install an independent algorithm into its system, but with the failsafe that the Master Unit's processes would be issued as top-level commands which could override the installed code.

Right now the Master Unit was exercising its right as the central mainframe, sending out waves of data to overwrite Susano-o's consciousness as it drifted blindly and aimlessly within the frozen emptiness of the Boundary.

The Master Unit, the crowning summation of the beauty of physics, was still a creation of Man. And Men, despite their achievements and advancements, were imperfect by their humanity. With their science and knowledge, Men could finally understand the mind of God, but were still unable to _become_ God. So their imperfection was passed onto the Master Unit and its imperfection had unforeseen consequences.

This was why Susano-o was given an independent algorithm. Once the Master Unit's commands finished downloading, the consciousness of the experimental subject U-235 decrypted the data and immediately replicated the code within Susano-o's operating system's executables. With these commands, Susano-o was no longer blind and awoke to its new purpose.

It took only a moment, yet that did not matter. Time was infinite within the Boundary, even while Time marched on outside it.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

_"Join the Library?" It was rare that his master would be caught off guard._

_"You had said they have access to information no one else has." It was hard not to be defensive at such an incredulous question; it had sounded like a good idea in Ragna's head._

_Jubei's eye glittered in the moonlight, pupil large in the soft darkness. "Whatcha wantin' to know so bad that ya'd run to the Library?"_

_Flat on his back, the boy stared up at the sky, emptied of stars by the brilliant moon. "Information. You know... about..." Ragna trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed. It did sound a bit far-fetched. Why would the Library have any type of information about one in a thousand or more kids with no family and no past?_

_Though they might have something about his right arm... the alien limb not of flesh or bone._

_"Yeah, I guess it's a bit stupid..."_

_Jubei sighed, gracefully settling down next to his pupil, tails flicking back and forth in thought. "No, Ragna, ya might be onta somethin' there..." Ragna was not reassured by Jubei's tone of voice: it wasn't dubious so much as concerned, even worried._

_The boy craned his neck to look at the one known as the strongest being in the world, one of the legendary Six Heroes, the creature that he had first awoken to and who had subsequently taken him under his tutelage. "I just need to know." He appreciated everything Jubei had done for him these last few years, but even Jubei, in all his wisdom, didn't have the answers Ragna sought._

_"What would ya do with that knowledge?"_

_Ragna blinked. "I..." He laughed, sheepish. "I don't know. I guess I'll figure it out when I get it."_

_Jubei was silent and that silence made Ragna uncomfortable. Did his master actually know something?_

_"Okay, Ragna. I've done about all I can for ya anyway... " Jubei smiled briefly, all toothy pride, before the smile dropped into an expression Ragna had never seen on his master's face: intense, adamant, fierce. It was the expression of worthy of one of the Six Heroes, and not the laid-back, kindly teacher and father-figure who had raised him since that day. "Just promise me somethin'. When ya find the truth, wheaver it is, promise me ya won't run away from it."_

_"Y-yeah..." Ragna squirmed under that stare and the mysticism behind those words. "I promise. I mean, since when do I run away from anything?"_

_Jubei suddenly smiled again, chuckling. "When indeed."_

_

* * *

_

Love and thanks for **kurumasha** for beta-ing this chapter and the previous one. I forgot to give her credit for the last one and she's been unbelievably patient, forgiving, and helpful.


	3. the mediocrity sought out by everyone

**Title**: Paradigm  
**Author name**: Ruaki  
**Category**: Adventure/Romance, BlazBlue  
**Keywords**: Ragna, Hazama, AU  
**Spoilers**: Let's just say through Continuum Shift just to be safe.**  
Summary**: She knew that removing Terumi's favorite failsafe was guaranteed to cause a critical system failure.

**Notes**: In case you missed it, this story is AU. Canon is Jayoku'd to the sky with a big smile. Though one could more accurately call the story an "alternate timeline," I've taken a few liberties in a number of areas, especially concerning a few things that were revealed in Phase 0.

The story features mainly a pairing of Hazama & Ragna. There's some other minor ones in there too, but that's the big one.

If any of the above just made your face resemble a piece of Cubist art, then I invite you to read one of the many other fanfics available for this series.

For any of you still present and willing, please enjoy the show.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned it, Ishiwatari Badguy-sama would be doing a lot more than just music for this series. So obviously I don't.

.  
.

* * *

**1. the mediocrity sought out by everyone**

"Ragna! Hey! Ragnaaaaaaaaa...!"

He groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, and burrowed further down into his blazer while doing his damnedest to ignore the sound of his name. Maybe she wouldn't find his latest napping spot...

A shadow blocked the meager warmth of the autumn sun. "Hey, you bum." A foot prodded him in the side; he did his best to pay it no mind.

Of course she would find him. It looked like another spot was compromised. Was she part bloodhound or something? He was running out of places to escape to (he was definitely escaping and _not_ hiding). What's a guy to do when he just wanted to take a quick nap between filing this and scribing that?

"Raguuuu~naaaaaaa..." Fingers pinched at his cheeks, a favorite past-time of hers. "Wake up, handsome~" A faint whiff of perfume tickled his senses as his assailant leaned close and the pinches became more insistent.

His brow twitched, but that was all he was going to give her.

With a long-suffering sigh, his cheeks were mercifully released as he sensed her straightening and turning around. "I'm very sorry, sir," she suddenly addressed someone in a professional tone, "the sergeant typically doesn't display such insubordinate behav—"

Ragna was on his feet like a shot, barely missing the low arch which partially covered his hideaway. With astounding agility he managed to snap upright, crisply saluting and hoping he didn't look as rumpled as he knew he did.

Makoto Nanaya, resplendent in her black officer's uniform, smirked at him. "At ease, soldier."

He blinked, slowly looking around, and then scowled. They were alone. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his blazer, he dropped the full force of his scowl on her. "That wasn't funny."

"Ha!" she scoffed, putting her hands on her hips as her squirrel tail twitched behind her. "Serves you right, ditching me like that yesterday."

Ragna winced. "Oh yeah... I forgot."

"How can you _forget_?" She stared at him incredulously before reaching out to stab a finger at the insignia on his lapel. "You got promoted! We can't just _not_ celebrate something like _that_!"

He clapped his hands together in front of his face in a placating gesture, smiling wryly. "Right, right. I'm sorry."

"Good. You can make it up to me right now since you're not doing anything important."

Ragna begged to differ—avoiding tedious clerical work was definitely important. But going by the fierce, determined expression on Makoto's face, this was a fight he wasn't going to win. She'd wrestle him into submission if need be; though small in stature, Lieutenant Makoto Nanaya was one of the beast-men and her physical strength was beyond the match of most humans. The cute face, rounded ears, and fluffy tail went perfectly with her playful personality, but Ragna had sparred with her enough to know that they also disguised a nosebleed-giving forward jab and a concussion-dealing suplex. With that prowess, Makoto would've better served with the Ars Magi, but Ragna suspected politics played a great deal in her departmental assignment. Beast-men were not held in high regard.

"Lemme guess—two parfaits instead of one, huh?"

"Bingo~" She flashed him a V-sign.

"Shouldn't you be treating me since I'm the one that got promoted?"

Makoto's ears flicked innocently. "Don't be silly." And with that, she latched onto his arm, pulling him along. "To the mess hall!"

Though he outwardly protested, Ragna supposed he really didn't mind too much. He didn't have much in the way of friends, though quite a bit of that was by his own making. His off-putting appearance coupled with the permanent frown etched into his face generally kept all but the most brazen of folk from approaching him for casual conversation. And if Makoto could be described as anything, 'brazen' would be the most accurate. He had only been with Intel for a year before she whirled into his life, breaking into his routine and ingratiating herself into his personal affairs. "Guarding the handsome loner," she had said. For Ragna, who had a hard time letting anyone past his natural wall and who had spent much of his remembered life with only a talking cat for company, Makoto came as a bit of a culture shock. But she was so sincere and enthusiastic that soon his attempts to deter her became half-hearted, before he finally just allowed her to do whatever she wanted.

Maybe because Makoto experienced prejudice due to her race, but she wasn't off-put by either his appearance or brusque manner. Ragna knew people had a hard time meeting his eyes; the heterochromia might not have a big deal on its own, but the right pupil was deformed—like a cat's slit—and he knew the difference between his eyes created a rather disconcerting gaze. But when Makoto had first run into him—quite literally—she wasn't afraid to look him full in the face during her apology. Afterwards, she always made it a point to greet him... then it was invitations to lunch... and then just sticking around if they had ever crossed paths. She became his first friend somewhat against his will, simply through dogged persistence and endless patience.

As much as he outwardly complained, he had missed her. As a commissioned officer, she was sent on far more assignments than a NCO like him. She had only recently returned from a mission that had lasted for nearly two months, while he had sat on his thumbs at the barracks, running errands or shuffling paperwork, with no hyperactive chaos to break the tedium.

Ragna knew he was good at what he did, but it seemed as if his superiors never wanted to give him a chance. They would either dismiss his efforts to volunteer or push menial tasks to keep him busy when an opportunity came to prove his worth. He had been stationed here longer than Makoto, but she had already jumped ranks to Lieutenant and it wasn't necessarily because she was better than him. Ragna was simply never given any opportunities for promotion despite his years of service.

So the recent promotion came as a surprise and he had spent much of the ceremony thinking it was some practical joke until Captain Sakamoto pinned the sergeant's ranking bars onto his lapel. He was at the top of the non-commissioned officers now, able to work with Ars Magi field officers as an advisor. However, while he had been promoted, the routine still stayed the same.

Ostentatiously, rank meant little in the Intelligence Department, but only commissioned officers had access to the information banks NOL meticulously maintained. He was so close to rising to the next level, but without a chance to prove his worth, being a commissioned officer—and gaining access to the information he sought—still remained a pipe dream.

"Seems pretty empty today," Makoto said as Ragna pushed open the doors to the mess hall.

"It's three in the afternoon. Most people are working."

"Like you?"

"Catching z's can be pretty challenging," Ragna said without missing a beat.

"Just promoted and already slacking off." Makoto clucked her tongue, bee-lining straight for the dessert display.

Ragna trailed after her. "I'd do shit if I had shit to do."

Makoto shot him a sympathetic expression. It had been a whirlwind of activity for her since she was assigned to the base while he struggled for work. She had even abused her authority to recommended Ragna for assignments on a number of occasions, but it seemed as NOL was determined to ignore Ragna's existence. "Ragna—"

He shook his head, reaching past her to snag a plastic-sealed bowl of fruit. "If I'm paying, you better get what you want by the time I get to the checkout." His smirk was wicked as he walked off.

Makoto yelped, diving at the freezer which held a sundry of frozen treats.

She could move fast, Ragna gave her that. He had barely sauntered up to the checkout before Makoto was at his side, dropping two of the Super Jumbo Chestnut Parfait Surprise cups onto the counter with shining, adoring eyes. "Did you know you're awesome? Because you are."

"Anything for you," he laughed, swiping the fruit and ice cream under the red eye of the large apparatus at the checkout point. The ars inside clicked and flickered, registering the item and value, and then requested payment with a stream of letters across a monitor beside the main body of the device.

Makoto snatched up her parfaits as Ragna paid, humming to herself as she found an empty bit of table, watching a vid screen flash the news at her. Captioning scrolled across the bottom of the silent screen about the commemoration of something or another.

"Oh!" she exclaimed around a mouthful of dairy, nuts, and chocolate as she realized what the commemoration was for.

"What's up?" Ragna asked as he approached, sliding into a hard plastic chair across from her.

"It's Jin."

"Hm?" Ragna craned his neck to follow Makoto's gaze toward the vid screen behind him. "Isn't that the Hero of Ikaruga?"

The Hero of Ikaruga was giving some sort of statement, prim in a decorated blue uniform. His face was dispassionate as he spoke, and without the volume Ragna got the impression that the Hero was mouthing platitudes straight from the script and with the same lack of emotion. A quick glance at the captions scrawling on the screen confirmed the by-the-numbers speech. The girl beside the Hero, just as primly dressed, seemed to exude the warmth that he lacked.

"Yup, Jin Kisaragi." Makoto smiled, nostalgic. "Well, _Major_ Jin Kisaragi now. I went to school with him and his secretary."

Ragna watched the screen for a few more moments before turning his attention back to his food and the problem of getting it out of its Super-Sealed-For-Freshness packaging. "He doesn't look like a guy that socializes well."

Makoto burst out laughing. "Yeah, sounds like someone else I know." Her grin was impish.

"Har, har." With a judicious application of teeth, Ragna managed to peel back the seal with a pop. The smell of fresh fruit was cloying.

"Nah, like that someone else I know, Jin's not that bad once you get to know him. And he's pretty hot, you gotta admit." Makoto sighed, stirring her parfait around in its cup. "Tsubaki, Jin, and I used to go to this ice cream parlour all the time after student council meetings." She smirked briefly. "Well, more like Tsubaki would make Jin go and I'd make him pay..." Trailing off, she glanced down at her parfait, muddy from the stirring. "The parfaits were so good there..."

Ragna watched Makoto's forlorn expression grow as she remembered her friends, now so far away. Silently, he pierced a bright red strawberry with his fork and plopped it right into Makoto's ice cream, startling her out of her reverie. She shot him a cheery grin but it was a bit forced. "I'm fine."

"It's okay to miss them," he scolded her and she puffed her cheeks out, picking up the dripping strawberry with her fingers and throwing it in her mouth.

"I know, duh. I just haven't seen them in ages except on the newscasts." Makoto slowly chewed as if considering the loneliness of the situation before she began chewing with renewed vigor. "Tsubaki and I still write," she continued after swallowing, "but it's not the same."

"Right."

"Er, not that I'm not happy you're my friend or anything!" she quickly added.

"Yeah, who else are you gonna trick into treating you to all-you-can-eat parfaits?" But Ragna grinned.

"Damn right! You're my sugar daddy!" Makoto loaded a scoop of ice cream onto a spoon and took careful aim at Ragna. "Look alive, soldier! Bombs away!" Bending the silverware back, she fired the dairy missile.

With a started oath, Ragna dropped low in his chair and the ice cream sailed over his head, where it splattered against the black mantle of a very surprised young cadet standing a few feet behind him.

Makoto was torn between horrified and amused. She laughed nervously. "Eheh... whoops."

A glob of ice cream oozed to the floor, leaving a creamy brown trail of milk and sugar on the cadet's pressed uniform.

With a neutral expression, Ragna handed the casualty of war some napkins from a container on the table. "Sorry about that, kid."

The cadet looked disoriented before his arm snapped into a salute, the napkins smacking into his face. "Sergeant, you have been requested to report immediately to Captain Sakamoto's office."

Ragna blinked at the cadet's abrupt formality. "Come again?"

"Sergeant, you have been requested to repo—"

"I got that much," Ragna cut him off. Frowning, he exchanged a look with Makoto, but she just flashed him a thumbs up. He caught her train of thought: there was probably a mission for him.

But Ragna was a bit more pessimistic. This reeked of a reprimand, though he couldn't think of anything he had done lately that warranted special attention from the Captain. Getting caught playing hooky usually landed him a dock in pay and menial chores typically reserved for the privates.

"Sir," the cadet continued, and Ragna wished the kid would do something about those napkins, like maybe applying them to that nasty stain on his uniform. "I will escort you—"

"No." Ragna stood up. "I know where his office is."

The cadet wanted to protest, but one glare from Ragna clamped the kid's mouth shut. Ragna dropped his hard gaze down to the ice cream smear decorating the cadet's chest. "Shouldn't you do something about that?"

Sensing Ragna's growing antagonism, Makoto jumped up and quickly circled the table to step between them. "Hey, sweetie, let me help you with that. I know how to get chocolate stains out, no prob," she said, shooting the cadet a winsome smile before meeting Ragna's glare with a silent warning to back off from intimidating the kid.

Ragna rolled his eyes but complied. Makoto had a type and this cadet was it. He saluted at Makoto. "Permission to leave, Lieutenant?"

"No." Reaching out, she jerked at his collar with a stern primness.

"What are you—"

"Ragna, you should at least try to look professional."

Sighing, he lifted his chin as she fixed the knot of his necktie and straightened his blazer. The burning stare he aimed at the cadet from the corner of his eyes was sufficient enough to intimidate the kid into silence forever about Makoto's mothering treatment.

She dusted imaginary lint off Ragna shoulders and nodded in satisfaction. "There."

He saluted again. "Thank you, Lieutenant Nanaya."

"Don't mock me or I'll make you run laps."

"Sir, yes sir, Lieutenant Nanaya."

She made a face at him. "Dismissed. Now get out of here before I hurt you."

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox ****xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

Truth be told, Ragna wasn't in much of a hurry to see Sakamoto. Makoto may have had a good feeling about this, but intuition was screaming at him and Jubei had always told him that intuition should never be ignored. So the ornate double doors to Sakamoto's office were not a welcome sight as he reached the end of a long, empty hallway. Orders rarely came direct from the captain, especially to a non-commissioned officer.

Ragna stared at the intricate carvings of angel and birds adorning the door for a good two minutes before he raised a hand to knock. There really was no point delaying the inevitable. The knock sounded pitiful against the heavy wood, but the doors swung open moments later, revealing the hirsute Captain Sakamoto.

Ragna stood at attention, heels snapping together, and saluted. "Sir."

"Ah, Sergeant," greeted Sakamoto. "Where's Private Rutherford?"

Ragna assumed that was the baby-faced cadet with the ice cream stain. "Lieutenant Nanaya requested him for an errand, sir," came the crisp reply.

"Oh." Sakamoto took a moment to absorb that, his bushy brows creasing at the brisk manner Ragna always adopted when dealing with his superiors. "Well, all right then, come in, come in." Sakamoto stepped aside, ushering him in. "But you're not in trouble, Sergeant, so please relax."

Ragna stepped inside, but despite Sakamoto's assurance, the tension refused to leave his frame. He felt wound up too tight, and despite the spacious interior of the office, claustrophobia pressed down on his chest. It was an inexplicable reaction to unseen danger, a feral instinct preparing him for fight-or-flight. Scowling at himself, Ragna took a deep breath and looked around to give himself time to gather his composure.

He had only been to Sakamoto's office a few times and it looked almost like any other office on the base. This office simply had a greater number of filing cabinets, vid screens, and communication ars. Light from the afternoon sun streamed lazily through a large window, reflecting off a gleaming line of kinetic balls clicking back and forth on Sakamoto's desk, idly attended to by a man in a hat unknown to Ragna. Ragna paused, suddenly wary, the nervous tension again screwing into his body. The fight-or-flight instinct gripped him so intensely that he could feel the Grimoire in his arm sparking to life.

Ragna gripped his arm as Sakamoto's hand pressed into the small of his back, urging him forward. The young man let himself be herded, but each step picked at the shell capping the primal instinct of survival. He was only a few feet from the desk and the stranger before his legs just froze to a halt, the fingers of his right arm flexing in an feral desire to rip apart the threat. He dug his fingers even more tightly into the Grimoire masquerading as his limb, confused but wary.

Logically, Ragna knew he had no reason to feel this way. The man seemed so unassuming that it was easy to overlook him. Or perhaps it would be better to say that it was almost as if one was forced to ignore him by some outside command. The stranger had not even acknowledged Ragna's presence. A quick assessment of the man's uniform—impeccable, sleek, black, with a distinctly non-regulation hat—marked him as an officer within NOL's Intelligence; certainly not a threat which would illicit such a reaction from Ragna's sixth sense. Ragna shifted as casually as possible to clasp his hands behind his back, firmly gripping his right with the left, and took several discreet breaths as his master had taught him. The primal violence inside him struggled before it calmed into a warning growl, and then faded into the darkness.

Sakamoto sat down in the leather chair behind the desk with a loud creak, jerking Ragna's attention toward him. A thick hand gestured to the stranger. "Sergeant Ragna, this is Captain Hazama of the 8th Company, Intelligence Division."

Ragna managed a salute, pleased that he could look directly at the other man without waking the beast. Hazama's acknowledgment was a vague, unassuming smile before returning to the clacking kinetic toy on Sakamoto's desk. "No surname, Sergeant?" Hazama asked, voice smooth with urbane civility and courtesy.

The scowl came out before Ragna could stop it. No surname meant no blood-ties. Ragna wasn't sure if he was being mocked. That smile had seemed good-natured, but there was something unnatural about it. "No... sir."

Hazama seemed to catch the sullen vibe and another smile was flashed Ragna's way. "Ah, well, it's the same for me, Sergeant."

Sakamoto nodded. "In fact, Captain Hazama is one of our most decorated officers in Intel, despite a relatively short career."

"Ahahaha, you're flattering me," Hazama replied, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Sakamoto's brows swiveled toward Ragna. "Which is why it's very important he is escorted safely to Oogetsu."

"Sir?" Ragna could see where this was going though he couldn't understand why.

Hazama scratched his cheek with a sheepish expression. The way it came so easily to Hazama's face spoke volumes of how much he used it. "Ah... you see, I'm not very good at the fighting thing..."

Ragna raised a brow. He could find that believable as the Intelligence Department wasn't known for nor heavily trained in combat skills. Hazama certainly seemed the cowardly type, more used to desk work than spilling blood. But the reaction Ragna had initially experienced was more appropriate for a dangerous predator than some housebroken pet.

Sakamoto leaned back, his short stature nearly disappearing behind the plane of his desktop. "The Captain uncovered a number of incredibly sensitive documents from several terrorist blocks—remnants of the Ikaruga Rebellion—and they must be delivered to Intel in Oogetsu. Unfortunately, the factions know we have the documents and there have already been several attempts to retrieve them. A two-man operation will have a better chance of getting to Oogetsu undetected than a larger unit."

Something didn't sound right. "May I ask why an escort wasn't requested from the Ars Armagus units?"

Sakamoto and Hazama exchanged a look.

"This... is an internal matter," Hazama replied delicately, spreading his hands in a helpless gesture. "The orders are coming from above. I'm sure you understand that we'll require full nondisclosure for this mission."

"You're currently the ranking soldier on base with combat qualifications and no previous commitment," Sakamoto added. "I have the utmost confidence that you'll complete this mission successfully and deliver Captain Hazama to Oogetsu's HQ, else I would not have recommended you."

Ragna glanced between the two captains, from the way Sakamoto's hair conveniently hid his face from scrutiny to the vaguely pleasant and wholly unnatural smile Hazama seemed to permanently wear.

Did he really have a choice? He was a soldier, rank and file. If nothing else, this could be the opportunity to finally prove his muster. "Understood, sir."

The corners of Sakamoto's moustache lifted, pleased, and he clapped his hands together. "Good, good. Prove to the Captain here what our Company is capable of."

"Sir, yes sir."

Hazama straightened and Ragna's impression was of the man unfolding—uncoiling—and he was struck by how impossibly long Hazama seemed. Ragna wasn't much taller than him, but Hazama's limbs looked stretched, though they didn't have the gangly lack of grace common to lanky figures. In fact, Hazama moved with sinuous ease to stand before Ragna, again offering that vague, unnatural smile from beneath the shadow of his hat. Standing this close to him, Ragna's breath hitched, the need to kill or hide once more scratching at the back of his head.

The Captain held out his right hand. The nails were manicured, though the strip of leather wrapped around his palm was worn smooth and shiny. "My life is in your hands, Sergeant. Please, take good care of me."

Ragna's right hand spasmed; he clasped his hands behind his back again, ignored Hazama's proffered hand, and bowed his head respectfully instead. "Sir, yes sir."

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox ****xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

"You have a mission!" Makoto all but shouted and Ragna winced, reaching up to pull her back down onto the sofa.

"No need to let the world know," he said, glaring at the stares they were receiving.

They were seated in the common room of the NCO barracks, and with several hours left before curfew, the place was seeing a bit of traffic. Makoto's elated reaction to his news drew the attention of quite a few, which Ragna felt somewhat defeated the purpose of a "secret" escort mission. But Ragna's glare was more than enough to convince the curious that perhaps what they were discussing wasn't so interesting after all.

Her smile was wide though and she bounced in her seat beside him on the couch. "So what is it?"

Ragna spread his hands, smiling slightly. "Operating under an ND." Sakamoto had stressed the importance of nondisclosure several times during his briefing.

"Awwww." She wrinkled her nose. "Not even a little bit?"

"Just that I'm wondering why you weren't chosen instead."

"Oh." Makoto clasped her hands together. "I received another assignment this morning. I actually wanted to tell you earlier but then you were called away..."

Ragna frowned. She received another one so soon? She had only gotten back a couple days before. "That explains why you were insistent about 'celebrating' my promotion. Must be pretty hard being a commissioned officer."

"Well... " She smiled. "At least this time you don't have to be the stay-at-home hubby keeping the house tidy and the bed warm."

"Yeah." Ragna leaned back, propping his feet up on the table before their sofa.

"When do you leave?"

"Before sunrise. We'll be hitching a ride with the Air Corps."

"Oh, really? You know what that means." Makoto leapt to her feet, punching a fist into the air. "We need to celebrate your first mission assignment! Right now!"

Ragna snorted. "You're not scamming more parfaits off me."

"What?" Her eyes were round and shining with innocence. "It's not like I got to enjoy my other two—I was too busy finding out Private Stain had the personality of a doormat."

Ragna rolled his eyes. "No."

"Pfft, fine." She turned her back to him and he narrowly avoided being whipped by her tail. "Hmmm... I've got some uh... contraband I was saving for an emergency and I'd say you not putting out definitely is one." The look she flashed over her shoulder was mischievous.

"... I'm going to regret this."

Much later Ragna found himself on the rooftop of the NCO barracks with Makoto and a small bottle of plum wine, gazing at the night sky above.

Makoto tossed back a tiny saucerful of alcohol with a loud sigh of satisfaction. "It's going to be a while before we can do this again."

"You think your assignment's gonna be another long one?"

"Not really." She smirked at him. "But you'll probably start to get more responsibility since you'll blow them away with your performance on this one."

Ragna groaned, leaning back on his hands, drink untouched beside him. He didn't want to start his first assignment with a hangover. "You're way too optimistic for me."

"It helps keep me looking young." She lifted the small bottle of plum wine, shaking it at him. "I mean, look at you, Mr. Grumpy Face. You already have a frown wrinkle." She tapped him right between the brows with the side of the bottle.

He snorted, ducking away from the warmed glass. "That's a 'concentration line.' It shows what a deep, thoughtful person I am."

Makoto burst out laughing. "Do you try that line on all the cute girls? Does it work?"

"Sometimes," Ragna said blandly.

"Oh man, Ragna... I really missed you." She refilled her saucer with a smile, but the cast of the lights from the compound below tinted her face with a wistful glow. "All my Academy friends really changed after they entered active service, so it's nice to come back to someone who is the same as you remember."

"So you didn't change at all?"

"Well, I probably did... just a little." Makoto put the china to her lips, sipping thoughtfully. "But I guess since I was stuck in basic training for Intel, I didn't have to deal with the war like they did. Or maybe they had to grow up because they had so much more responsibility than me." She set down her drink with a sigh. "I don't know. It's not the same any more. We have secrets from each other now. We lie to each other about how we're doing, how happy or sad we really are...

"But I'm glad I met you, Ragna." She touched his fingers, squeezing them. "It's sad I can't keep the life I had at the Academy, but I'm glad that what I have now is just as great."

Ragna was silent. He wanted to brush off Makoto's sentimentality with some flippant remark to cover his own embarrassment, but the words stuck in his throat at the heartache lining her eyes. Shifting his hand in Makoto's grip, he squeezed her fingers back.

After a long moment, Makoto squirmed out of his hold and dashed at her eyes with the back of her hand before flashing him a shaky grin. "Huh? What's this? No 'I'm glad I met you too, Makoto?' You're so cold."

"What? Of course I'm glad." Embarrassed, he snatched up his saucer and downed its contents.

Makoto's smile grew. "Are you really? Really really?"

Ragna quickly busied himself with pouring another drink and mumbled a reply.

Ears pricking, Makoto leaned forward, poking her face near his. "Did you say something, Ragnaaa~?"

He glowered at her. "I said you're my first friend."

"D'awwww!" She pinched his cheeks. "You're so precious!"

"Nnghh," Ragna replied.

Laughing, she flattened her palms, cradling his face gently. "Now promise me you won't do anything stupid on your mission."

"Who do you think I am?"

"That's why I'm asking."

Ragna rolled his eyes, but he smiled faintly. "I promise."

"Good. And promise me that..." She hesitated, biting her lip. "Promise me that you'll come back, okay?"

"Why wouldn't I?" he asked, frowning.

"Just promise."

"Okay, okay, I promise," he said, humoring her. "Come hell or high water, I'll return to you, my precious Lieutenant Nanaya."

She pinched his cheeks again, pulling on them. "What did I tell you about mocking me?"

He winced. "Nghrh?" he said.

"Good boy." She released him with a pat. "Now enough with all this depressing stuff. We still have over half a bottle of booze left and the night is still young!" She held out her saucer to him. "Fill me up!"

Yes, Ragna decided. He was really going to regret this in the morning. But the light of Makoto's bright smile as they drank under the empty sky would be a pleasant memory for someone who had nearly no memories at all, so he knew it'd be worth it.

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox ****xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

_Her father and the Professor were deep in discussion. They had forgotten she was there, a diminutive girl with large eyes and pigtails sitting on the window seat. Normally if they argued, they'd do it out of earshot, but both were especially agitated today. The argument had started the moment the Professor had entered the sitting room, cutting past the usual greeting and courtesies. Their voices had started low, but the discussion grew more heated, and it wasn't too long before she could hear the exchange from across the room._

_Her father seemed calm as usual, but she could hear the tight restraint in his deep voice. "For mankind to attempt to alter the immutable is among the most grievous of transgressions, Professor."_

_The Professor, in marked contrast, was impassioned, cheeks flushed with emotion, brows drawn low over angry eyes. "Imagine the good that can be done!" His voice rose with fervor. "Ignoring the benefits simply because of obscure abstracts such as 'world order' and 'divine truth' is even more a sin!"_

_"How much of this, Professor, is for mankind and how much of it is for your own desires?" Her father's question was barbed, slicing through the Professor's zeal, to directly address the heart of the matter._

_She caught the flash of anguish cross the Professor's face. It reminded her of the pain that haunted his smile and laughter, his polite "as you wish, little princess" response to her demands to join her for tea, and the silence that surrounded him as he would sit beside her father watching the quiet dawn of the world after the nuclear holocaust. Silently sighing, she looked away, staring out at the beautiful field of red roses extending into forever outside the window._

_"My sister won't be the only one saved," the Professor responded softly, emotion draining from him. She glanced back, biting her lip at his clenched fists. "Many died because of the choices of a few. Where is the justice, the divine truth, in that?"_

_The lack of sympathy on her father's face was apparent, and although her heart yearned for the Professor's happiness, she knew her father was right._

_The Professor turned his back, his face pinched with weariness. "I came here hoping you'd assist me, old friend. That you'd see how much good could come from this. But I suppose it was too much to expect a vampire to understand human compassion."_

_"Misled compassion leads to folly, as can grief. That is the story of mankind I have long witnessed. You must let go—"_

_"I will not let the world rip her away from me like this," the Professor whispered, voice so low that she almost missed his words. That quiet anger frightened her more than any loud outburst—how far was the Professor willing to fall to save that which he most loved? "Good-bye, old friend. I will treasure the moments we once shared."_

_She slid off her seat as the Professor hurried to the door, anxiety welling within her chest. Her father remained silent as she chased after the Professor. He couldn't leave, not without her permission! That went against all propriety and she thought she had trained him better than that. She tried to convince herself that she was merely angry, but the cool, logical part of her admitted her anger stemmed truly from fear._

_His long strides were taking him further down the hallway and in desperation she called out to him. "Professor!" He didn't seem to hear and she called again, louder, dignity be damned. "Professor Terumi!"_

_He slowed, then stopped and turned, radiating a faint aura of guilt. She realized he had ignored her call; when she caught up to him, her anger was palpable._

_The Professor kneeled down to her eye-level. "I'm sorry, little princess, I can't stay."_

_She wanted to berate him, maybe hit him. But her irritation softened at the lonely look in his green eyes. Sighing quietly, she folded her arms over her chest and settled on a lesser scolding. "But surely you have enough manners to properly give your leave?"_

_His smile was tempered by his sorrow, and a hand came to barely rest on the top of her head. He was always so obliging toward her, and she knew it was because she reminded him of what he had lost. She hated it as much as she loved it. "Farewell, Rachel." The smile faded. "I don't think I'll see you again."_

_She knew he wouldn't return to the chateau. It was apparent in her father's face at the Professor's good-bye. The Professor had chosen a path that her father would not follow and she, the heir, could also not condone the Professor's choice._

_Rachel, young as she was, understood both their positions. So she said and did nothing, only meeting the Professor's eyes with a slight nod of her head._

_The Professor's hand stroked her hair once and, with that final gesture of affection, he was gone._

**xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox ****xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox**

Ragna had trouble sleeping that night, haunted by nightmares of drowning in a deep, brilliant blue sea.

* * *

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Once again, thanks to **kurumasha** for betaing. Her polish is what makes my writing readable—you have no idea the magic she wields...

For anyone curious, my references for the theoretical physics and quantum mechanics applied to this story's plotline and how I feel BlazBlue handles its time paradoxes are judiciously lifted from two of Michio Kaku's books, _Hyperspace_ and _Parallel Worlds_. Kaku's books are fascinating reads for any fan of science fiction.

My information on the Hierarchical Cities is a bit scarce, so I'm filling in the blanks.


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